


lovely

by yootaex



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Childhood Trauma, Crying, Depression, Doctor/Patient, Killing, M/M, Physical Therapy, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Sadism, Sleepwalking, basically hendery is a softie, hendery is also caring af, the rest of the characters will be added in the next chapters, xiaojun is scared of himself :"), yangyang and xiaojun are bffs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 04:51:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18358976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yootaex/pseuds/yootaex
Summary: “This medicine will make you feel better, Dejunie." That was the thing that my mother, my father and almost everyone have told me for the past 14 years."





	lovely

**Author's Note:**

> hello there! since i noticed there aren't many fanfics about wayv's new members, i decided to start one brand new. please if you don't want to read it, skip it and please know, i don't have any clue about disorders like this, but i'm trying my best to see what i can do ; - ; thank you for reading this short note and i hope you like it ^^

The door handle was pushed strong enough to open the door entirely. At the door threshold there was a short man, wearing a big coat, which was almost hiding his whole figure. He took a glance and stayed on his place for a while. He was expecting everything, but not this. The thing, or might I say the person, that made him stay on his spot, was a black-haired man who was writing something in his notebook. The man’s fingers were holding a white engraved pen gently touching the white pages of his economist notebook. Blinking twice or maybe thrice, the bronze haired man was unable to look anywhere, but the man’s body.    
  
“Hello there Xiao Dejun.” The man looked away from the white sheets of paper, putting a soft smile over his lips.   
  
Xiao Dejun, or Xiaojun as he prefered people to call him, was a normal short seventeen year old boy in his 3rd year of high school. From what the black haired man understood from what was written on the documentary about the boy standing almost in front of him, he was suffering from somnambulism or should he say sleepwalking with an additional rare occasion of sadism. It was unusual case for a professional psychotherapist like him, but Guanheng's passion was accepting challenges. He could already sense what Xiaojun's character was, just by looking over his gestures. The boy was surely confused, he didn't know how to act properly, so his movements were awkward and short, but so adorable at the same time.

"Hello Mr. Huang." The bronze haired boy spoke all of a sudden, coughing at the end of his sentence, with a sniffle after. The psychotherapist could understand for it was cold outside and many of the persons were already cold due to the low temperature.  
  
The shy boy took off his enormous dark beige coat, revealing his broad shoulders to the warmness of the room. A deep sigh left from his lips, taking all of his stress that he was holding in his body out as well. He was too nervous to speak about his problem. He had neither the experience, nor the will to speak about his problem. The shorter laid was feeling it uneasy to open up in front of a completely unfamiliar person who, for his luck, was pretty gifted by his splendor.   
  
\- - -   


"Sit as comfortable as you can, Dejun. You can also lay on the sofa if you want."  
  
The psychotherapist already got up from his office desk, sitting closer to the guy. He always did that with his patients. Guanheng was a person that never thought it best to do nothing and then get the money wrongfully. He wasn't taught like this, he was not like the people around him, but the opposite. The black-haired man was willing to help the boy and he was serious about it.   
  
"So, let me present myself. I'm Huang Guanheng, but you can call me Hendery. I already know my name is kinda difficult to pronounce." The older man chuckled a little at the end of the last sentence. "Nice to meet you, _Dejun_."   
  
The psychotherapist gave his hand in front of the younger one, confusing him for a bit. The boy couldn't look away from the man's palm.   


"Nice to meet you too. Also you can call me Xiaojun, I find Dejun a little bit more personal as a nickname."  
  
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." The black haired man started to apology. "I didn't know that it was uncomfortable for me to call you Dejun." He continuted his apology until Xiaojun started to laugh.  
  
"Don't worry. I'm used to it." Said the bronze-haired man, shaking hands with the older one.   
  
"So..." The older man began seriously after a second. "Can we talk about _this_?"   
  
_This_. The thing that he was scared to talk about in front of the others. He limited himself when it came to this, talking about it so rarely, that it was a miracle if he even thought about it. The smaller boy sighed, feeling the air heavy. It was tough, yet too painful to do this without someone's help. Usually when someone mentioned the topic, the bronze haired man would not answer. His mind was busy trying to find an excuse, just like a small child trying to find an excuse as to why he got home so late at night.   
  
Yet somehow, Dejun could find himself slightly comfortable. He layed on the sofa, his limbs barely touching the end. The first thing that made an impression on him was that the white sofa was unusually softer than he expected. His palm touched the sofa, making Guanheng to chuckle softly.  
  
"Is there anything wrong, Mr. Huang?" The boy asked calmly, not finding anything funny about the situation.  
  
"No, no. Just-" The older man couldn't stop chuckling at the position the boy had taken. "You look so adorable, just like a little puppy. Yes, I said it. You're just _too_ cute to exist."   
  
Saying Dejun didn't blush that would be a lie. He secrelty loved receiving compliments and for the minutes that he stayed in the psychotherapist's office he received more than he had in his whole life.  
  
"Here, I told you are cute when you act nervous." Guanheng pinched his cheek, making Xiaojun look and stare into his eyes. They both looked at each other, almost hypnotized. Just for a second they both locked their eyes, finding themselves.  


Suddenly Hendery coughed, breaking the stare. Xiaojun found himself blinking a lot, more than he could count.   
  
"So without the sugarcoating, let's begin the session or we should call it something else?"  
  
"No. A session is good way to call therapy." Xiaojun answered, his tongue traveling through his lips, wetting them due to excessive dryness.  
  
Hendery moved his chair a little closer to the boy, just to hear him better. He wanted to make as much contact as possible, so he couldn't miss a chance.  
  
“ _This medicine will make you feel better, Dejunie._ That was the thing that my mother, my father and almost everyone have told me for the past 14 years." The boy took in a deep breath, feeling like he was about to cry soon. It was painful to talk about this, but he needed to be opened to someone. And that someone in his case was Mr. Huang. He could feel himself calming down, like the man could erase all the pain of his body and mind. He didn't know why he could open up in front of the psychotherapist, but his gut knew it was the best person to choose from. "I knew I had problems, I knew I couldn’t stop it all by myself. I was helplessly trying to get rid of this without anyone’s help. I tried to not sleep at all during the night, I tried to drink as much coffee as I can... but nothing worked."  


Guanheng began to write as fast as he could. The words he wrote were helpless, medicine, strict parents and most importantly useless. The boy was considering himself useless. That alone was a symptom of suicidal thoughts at the beginning. Guanheng could sense the same emotions he felt when he was his age. He sympathized greatly with the boy.  
  
"I don't want to be rude or to ask you inappropriate questions, but..." The man took a deep breath. "Do you remember when all of this happened? If you don't want to answer-"  
  
"I actually remember when." The boy answered shortly, after that he continued talking. "It was a night as normal as any other. I was sleeping deeply, but then I heard steps coming out of the hallway. I don't know if it was a dream or reality."  
  
The psychotherapist made the pen touch the notebook again, writing a short not knowing if it's a dream or real life. The boy was clueless about this part, so it may be his imagination. That was the thing that Guanheng needed to find out. The difference between the dream and reality was huge and could affect a lot in this state.  
  
"I was pretty sure it was real life... or at least that's what my 3 years self thought. Everything seemed so real and I couldn't say if it's real, but _the touch_... was very real."  
  
"The touch? You touched something?" Guanheng asked, writing a question mark on the white paper.  
  
"Yes. I believe it was something sharp."  
  
_Definitely a knife_ Guanheng thought.   
  
"I could feel a pain from it, as if I cut myself, but it was a small scratch which healed throughout the years."  
  
_Throughout the years?_   


"You're sure that was real then." Was the clear answer Guanheng put on his explanation. "You were alarmed and anxious at that moment, that's why you can tell exactly what happened even if your memories are blurred." He noticed the boy's saddened expression as if he's about to cry.  
  
"Hey, hey... what's wrong?" The man asked, holding Xiaojun's hand tightly. "Xiaojun, what happened?" He tried to make his voice lighter.  
  
" _You're not supposed to cry Junie. Don't cry, you'll only cause problems._ " The boy shortly murmured to himself, breathing deeply again and again, feeling uneasy.   
  
"Excuse me Mr. Huang, but do you have a toilet nearby?" The bronze-haired boy asked looking straight at the older man's face. His eyes were watery, just about to drop the first of its many tears.   
  
"Y-yes. The white door over there."  
  
Guanheng pointed him to it. Xiaojun didn't wait a second to flee as quickly as possible, just to hide his tears from the man. The shorter one couldn't let anyone see his tears. That was one of his parents' rules.  
  
_No tears or you'll be expelled from your school and you'll say bye to your dearest best friend Yangyang, you understand?_ He told himself.  
  
As soon as he got in front of the white door, he pushed the door handle, closing the door afterwards. Xiaojun needed to take a deep breath for a minute. He never felt so scared. Even though he went to many psychotherapists, he never felt so afraid. As if someone took all of his patience and replaced it with anxiety and confusion. Xiaojun's eyelids fought more and more until he finally surrendered, letting the tears flow freely. He was breathing sharply, trying to stop his tears.  
  
_But he couldn't._   
  
"Dejun, is everything alright?" The black haired man asked on the other side of the door, knocking on at first.  
  
"Y-yeah. I'm f-fine." Dejun answered sniveling, wiping his tears away with his wet fingers, which was impossible at that moment. He was taking deep breaths, just to calm himself, but it was harder than expected. 

  
On the other side of the door the man stood, worried. Guanheng felt almost powerless to comfort the boy. He didn't know why, but he wanted to calm him down more than anything. He wanted to help him, he didn't want to hear the boy's cries, he wanted to replace them only with cheerful things. He wanted to illuminate the dark life that Dejun had in any way that he could. For now, this was his most important goal.   
  
"Dejun?" The black haired man murmured, hearing nothing as a response, he asked again. "Are you there?"   
  
He waited for the respond, but nothing was coming from Dejun's mouth. A sudden fear rose in him. Hundreds of thoughts rushed through his head and then he didn't wait a second. He pushed the door handle, seeing something that was very unusually resembling of his own past. The boy was breathing heavily. His chest going up and down with each breath. His eyes were sealed tightly. His hands were clenched in his fists, causing the knuckles of his fingers to whiten. His lips were slightly open while his teeth were tightly closed.   
  
The man was standing in the same place, looking at the boy shocked. He didn't know what to do. Without wasting any more time, he slowly went to Xiaojun, grasping the boy's left hand, which was wrapped in a fist. With his other hand, Guanheng began to rub lightly on the surface of the boy's hand, releasing his stress.   


"When I had my tough times I often cried." Guanheng whispered, staring off into Dejun's hand. "My parents were always fighting when I was a child, so I was always scared when they were in an argument. My only support was my sisters. The three of them were older than me and gave me a lot of their time growing up. I could say that I was raised in a very gentle way because of them." He gently laughed afterwards.  
  
The bronze haired guy thought he would be lying if he didn't say that the man's laughter was beautiful. The boy had a feeling of being at peace. The laughter of the psychotherapist was like a bell. It seemed as if his giggling could heal every disease. Dejun couldn't be satisfied with just hearing the laughter of the black haired man, so he looked at his face. The lips of his were formed into a lovable heart, showing its plumpness.   
  
"I couldn't be myself when I was younger, you know? Days were all lived in fear, all time was spent staying alone when my sisters were away. I wasn't like the kids at my age. I was different."  
__  
_Different?_ The shorter said in his head, asking it more like a question than a repeated word.  
  
"You resemble me a lot, you know? A swan without its wings, trying to spread them even though they're not there."   
  
Dejun didn't know what was going on with him. He felt weak, he felt like he was going to collapse after a second. Unconsciously, he approached the man, hugging him as hard as he could. His head was stuck in his chest while his eyes were closed, breathing more relaxed than a few minutes before. He took a deep breath, inhaling the perfume of the black-haired man. He smelled of a sea breeze mixed with vanilla. One of his favorite smells.  
  
Guanheng was at first little bit surprised seeing the boy acting like this, but then he understood. Dejun was trying to reach for help with remaining courage. The older man immediately laid one arm around the boy's back, pulling his body closer to his own. His other hand was laid on his hair, his fingers clinging to his bronze hair fondling with it.  


The moment, the feeling, that they both felt, was relaxing. Dejun was calming down, able to comprehend, while the black haired man was finding it so hard to get out of this position. He surely was stunned by how small the boy's body looked compared to his own. He didn't want to sound inappropriate, but he wanted to hold that body in his arms forever. True, he loved hugging people, he knew that weakness of his since childhood, but that hug was different.    
  
"How are you feeling, Dejunie?" The man whispered, still playing with his hair.   
  
The boy needed a second to assimilate what was the question that he was asked, but after realizing he looked at the man's dark eyes, taking his head off his chest.   
  
"A lot better." The boy answered calmly. "Thank you." Dejun surely loved his eyes, like it was pulling him in, hypnotizing him and making him lose his willpower.   
  
"No problem." The man answered, after that continuing. "As I said, it's a pleasure to help you get rid of this problem."


End file.
